Chapter 5
Five
“So I came and watched your practice today.”
Hawk glanced up from his menu, eyebrows rising when he looked at Caleb. “Yeah?” They were at a casual burger and pizza American-style restaurant that had English menus, both of them needing something familiar but not at the village.
“Yeah. You’re like, amazing.” Caleb watched him, green eyes bright, a smile curving his lips.
“Thanks.” His cheeks heated with pleasure. It was nice to hear Caleb, who was an elite athlete in his own sport, say so.
“You’re great with that backhand shot, and your direction changes are epic.”
He laughed. “Wow. You studied up, huh?”
“A little.” Caleb shrugged. “I wanted to not sound like a derp.”
“You don’t.” Hawk had dated a couple of guys who had never even learned his team name, so it was beyond cool that Caleb had learned some stuff. “Can I return the favor and come watch you practice?”
“If you can come tomorrow around nine. We’re open to the public until the opening ceremonies day after tomorrow, just like you.”
“I can. Our ice time is late tomorrow.” Pleased as fuck, he put his menu down and grabbed his beer. It was a lite, but it was nice to indulge a tiny bit. In just a few short days they would be getting down to business.
“Cool. Then you can come cheer me on.” Caleb had a Coke, and he sipped it with relish. “Man, it smells so good in here. What are you getting?”
“A supreme pizza and a side of onion rings.” Might as well go for broke.
“Dude, that is awesome.” Caleb laughed for him the expression on his face was one of pure joy. “I’m having a lettuce wrap burger, but only because I want to have a mountain of fries as big as my head.”
“Yeah, you’re more like a chicken breast and brown rice kind of guy, right?”
“Yes, and you eat big bowls of pasta and lots of lean meat.”
“Sometimes I even eat wholewheat pasta.” He gave Caleb a wink.
They’d had a fun time comparing the differences between snowboarding and hockey, how hockey was a long haul up and down the ice kind of game, and it required a ton of stamina and a lot of carb loading.
The halfpipe was more about twitch muscles and being able to twist into a pretzel in midair.
He liked Caleb as pretzel, in fact.
“So what did you think, seriously?” He didn’t want to sound like an insecure asshole, and Caleb Lancaster had already told him he was amazing, but he kind of wanted to know what Caleb’s favorite part was.
“Well, I think watching you stretch was orgasmic.”
His cheeks heated a little bit, and he kind of chuckled. “Yeah, well, there’s a reason that some of the lady fans call it the boy aquarium, I guess.”
Caleb hooted. “The boy aquarium. Oh my god, that’s hilarious.”
“Do you get stuff like that too?”
“Sure. There’s a lot of people who hang around the tour just to watch the pretty boys and girls fly through the air, I guess.
And there’s always somebody willing to keep me company, you know?
” Caleb shrugged. “But most of us just ignore it. I bet you guys do too. We have a job to do, and we’re competitive as fuck, and we don’t want any distractions. ”
“Pretty much. Some fans can get a little crazy, but really it’s easy to just sort of slide through and do our thing. Social media is the worst, so I try to stay away from that as much as I can.”
“Anyway, I also loved watching you skate just when you guys were doing laps and doing the eraser race kind of stuff. You’re really, really good at it. I mean, I know you’ve probably been doing it since you were like two, but the one time I tried to ice skate, it was tragic.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re amazing at what you do.”
“Oh fuck yeah, I shred.” Caleb made a little hang tough or hang tight or whatever motion with his fingers.
They grinned at each other and ordered their food, keeping the mutual admiration society going. He honestly liked Caleb. The guy was eminently practical, really down-to-earth, funny, and super deadpan, which was a lot of fun.
And then there was that tight, compact, hot-as-fuck body, and the fact that Caleb was willing to do just about anything with it, in and out of bed.
He had to be careful, or he would start looking for something that wasn’t there. This was just a fling. That was it.
“So, is supreme your favorite kind of pizza?” Caleb asked, clearly in keeping with their no-small talk rule. They were learning about each other, asking pointed questions and non-pointed ones. Hawk could never remember doing that and bonding so quickly with someone in his life.
“I’m actually a pepperoni and mushroom kind of guy, but the supreme sounded really good tonight, and I’m curious to see if it comes out with a Korean twist. What’s your preference?”
“If I’m gonna splurge on pizza, I want the works. I’m with you. A supreme is the way to go. Although I had this one in Rome one time that was Quattro Stagioni, I think they called it. The Four Seasons. It was really yummy.”
“I like Rome.” He’d been there a couple of times. Italy had been one of the first trips he’d taken when he made enough money to travel for pleasure during the summer. And although Rome was kind of a cesspool of humidity and heat in the summer months, it was still so beautiful.
“Oh my god, me too. When I was there the first time, I stayed in this little rental apartment just off the Campo de Fiore. Every time I’d wake up in the morning, they’d be having some kind of a market out there, like a flower market.
It smelled like heaven.” Caleb leaned forward over the table, his eyes dancing, his fingers skating over the tabletop like they couldn’t stay still.
All Hawk wanted to do was sit there and watch him, listen to Caleb talk, and soak him in, take what he could get while he could get it.
Caleb seemed just as invested. And Hawk took another long sip of his beer, trying to calm his shit down.
They only had a couple of days before the opening ceremonies, and then they would both have to get serious about what they were doing here.
Until then, he intended to have a good time, but he also knew that he couldn’t count on it going beyond that. So he really needed to pace himself.
There was no sense in falling for Caleb Lancaster. No sense in it at all.
Caleb stood above the edge of the halfpipe, looking down into the bowl of it, mentally running through his routine for his third run of the morning.
He liked to visualize everything before he started because that meant he didn't have to think about it.
He would just flow from one move to the next to the next.
He had quite a few tough tricks in his bag, maybe not as many as Shaun White, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was performing those tricks cleanly and getting the amplitude out of them that was required at this elite competition level.
He looked all the way down the pipe, picking his spots for his doubles and his 1140s, knowing he had to get this pipe locked in before the competition ever started, even the prelims.
He took another deep breath, let it out through his nose, and then he dropped in.
After that, there was no more thinking. He let his muscle memory take over, and he reacted to the conditions, making sure he was pulling huge air, pushing himself to be as clean as he could. Landing where he needed to land so he could swoosh right into the next trick.
By the time he had his last twist, he knew he was going to bobble the landing a little bit, but he managed to stick it enough to not go down, and that was all that mattered.
Listening to his teammates whoop and cheer for him, he pumped his arms, knowing he needed to think about what he’d done wrong and watch the tape later. But for right now, a successful run was a successful run.
By the time he unclipped and met his coach at the end of the finish area, he was grinning even though his nose was running, he was panting hard, his right ankle was bugging him just a little bit, the twinges making him lift his foot off the ground to get the pressure off it.
“Good job, man.” His coach clapped him on the shoulder. Brandon Talion was a former snowboarder who had gathered up a lot of gold in his lifetime at the X Games, if not on the World Cup circuit.
“Thanks. I need to work on that last landing, but other than that, it felt good.”
“It looked good. I could tell that last landing was a tough one, though. Is your foot still bothering you?”
“My ankle is a little sore, but it’ll be fine.”
“Well, I think you’re done for the day.”
At his surprised glance, Brandon shrugged. “I think you should rest up, ice it, get in the hot tub, take it easy. You’re in the best shape I’ve seen you in, you’re prepared, and I don’t want you to get injured on a practice run.”
“Hey, that works for me. Do I need to hang?”
“No. It’s fucking cold. I need to run Gianni through his pipe, and then I’m going to get some damn soup.”
Gianni DiVolo was the other boarder Brandon was coaching this Games, and he was a great kid from Northern Italy. Caleb hoped he did well.
“I’m out then.” He saluted B, grabbed his board, and headed toward the area where changing tents were set up so he could get out of his gear and get warm.
As soon as he was changed, he grabbed his phone and texted Hawk.
Hey, did you make it to see my run?
Yeah. That was rad. Freezing my nuts off
Meet me at transport?
On my way
He grinned, trying hard not to examine how happy it made him that Hawk had been there to see him do his practice runs.
Because thinking in those terms was stupid. This was a thing for exactly one more day, if Hawk wanted it to go that far, and then they had to go their separate ways. The thought made the bottom plop out of his stomach like when he dropped into the pipe.
So Caleb shoved that away, then packed his gear bag and headed for the shuttle area. He wanted to maybe grab lunch and head back to the room he’d been sharing with Hawk so they could spend some serious time together.
“Caleb! How was your run?” One of the skiers he knew was coming up as he was going down.
“Good, man. Tear it up out there.”
“I will.” He got a wild grin, and they moved on.
He waited at the shuttle area until Hawk came into view, thankfully alone, and casually joined him on the next transport, plopping down next to him.
“That was so cool,” Hawk told him, arm rubbing against his.
“Yeah? I thought I did okay.”
“Okay? Shit. You were like poetry in motion. I’m pretty sure bodies aren’t supposed to do that stuff.”
That statement made him ridiculously happy, and Caleb shrugged it off as best he could. “Thanks. That last run I was starting to stiffen up. So my coach sent me off to ice up and maybe get a rubdown.”
Hawk glanced around at the mostly empty shuttle. “I can give you that.”
“Yeah? That would save some time. Do a little multi-tasking.” His cock was thinking that sounded like a fantastic idea.
“That sounds way more boring than what I have in mind…” Hawk’s sideways glance scorched him to his toes.
“Well, you know me. I don’t do boring.” He leaned just slightly, letting them press together.
“I know.” Hawk’s voice deepened, taking on some gravel.
“Yeah. So, we’ll order food for delivery, huh?” He wasn’t leaving the room again until he had to go tomorrow to line up for the opening ceremonies.
“I think that’s a good idea. Let me take care of you.”
Fuck. That sounded like the best kind of fantasy come true and, while it was definitely dangerous to his self-preservation, Caleb couldn’t resist.
“I’m all over that, babe,” he murmured, just loud enough for Hawk to hear.
Just under an hour later, Caleb stretched out face down on the bed with towels protecting the sheets, naked as the day he was born, with Hawk kneeling between his spread legs, rubbing his back and shoulders with warmed oil.
“Heaven,” Caleb whispered, feeling a little delirious.
“Agreed.” Hawk’s hands slid down to his ass to dig in deep, then worked down each leg from thigh to toes.
Hawk paused on the ankle he’d tweaked during practice, though, skating those long fingers over his skin. “You’re a little bruised and swollen here.”
He raised up to look at Hawk over his shoulder. “I’ll ice it when we’re done. And I’ll have Mark look at it in the morning before we go to the opening.” Mark was one of the trainers assigned to the snowboard competitors on Team USA.
“Okay, cool. I just don’t want you to let it go and really get hurt.”
“I won’t.” How bad could it be? Caleb was young, and he’d never injured his ankles. He was good to go.
“Mmmkay.” Hawk worked his way back up to just below his ass, then slid to one side to help him flip over so they could look at each other as the rubdown continued.
“Any other sore spots?” Hawk’s grin was way more sexual now than it had been.
His hands were still gentle, though. This guy was a caretaker, Caleb could tell.
“I can think of several.” He watched Hawk for a few minutes, the big hands working oil into his skin. Then he sighed. “So how do you want to work tomorrow. I mean, we have the room one more night…”
“You don’t want to hang out and party at the opening?”
“Do you?” Please say no.
Hawk shrugged, appearing ever so casual. “I’m not much of a partier. And we do have the room until the next day…”
Caleb nodded, meeting that silvery gaze.
“So, we each walk with our own folks, meet up, and come back here?” He knew he would love the opening ceremonies, but he would rather spend the rest of the night with Hawk than he would stand out in the cold and exhaust himself.
He’d done that too many times at competitions.
God, he was an old man at twenty-one.
“It’s a date. A deal. It’s a deal.” Hawk looked as panicky as he felt, he thought.
“Good.” He put his head back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling as Hawk worked up to his cock, slick hands really digging in to give him a happy.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted to see in Hawk’s eyes, so he didn’t look anymore.
But he had a feeling Hawk didn’t want their time to end any more than he did.